Mtr Mary Trainor

Oh list to the lay of a poor Irish harper
And scorn not the strains of his old, withered hands  …*

Dear friend,

The man with the withered hand. It’s a Gospel account that seems to roll around more often than others—in part, perhaps, because it is contained in Matthew, Mark, and Luke.

Our Office Gospel today offers this story from Mark, presumably the first telling.

Who is this man with the withered hand?

He’s the one Jesus heals in a synagogue as illustration to his detractors, who complain that such deeds violate God’s intentions for keeping the sabbath holy. Jesus thinks otherwise, and proceeds to demonstrate.

In the minds of the critical Pharisees, even healing is work—and work is forbidden on the sabbath.

As counter to that, Jesus tells them the sabbath was made for humankind, not as yet another yoke around their shoulders to make life harder, but to ease it.

But remember his fingers, they once could move sharper  …

It’s been decades since I first encountered the man with the withered hand—and now I see my own hands withering, wrinkled, without the strength of youth. And so this anonymous man from the past speaks more loudly to me or, at least, more personally.

And I find comfort and peace in knowing that I worship a God who lifts up those who others cast down, and who will help me, even on a sabbath.

To raise up the memory of his dear native land  …

Mtr Mary

The Bard of Armagh, words attributed to Patrick Donnelly, who was made Bishop of Dromore in 1697.